


In Every Mistake

by adiwriting



Series: My Wish [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was why Blaine hated coming home for dinner every Wednesday night. Inevitably, he would end up in a fight with his dad and his mother would be stuck trying to referee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Mistake

“Excuse me?” William Anderson asked, setting down the stack of business papers he had been reviewing to look at his son.

“I said that Kurt asked me to prom,” Blaine repeated, doing his best not to look his father in the eyes.

“And you told him no, I presume,” he said. Blaine could feel the intensity of his glare, even as he adamantly studied the grains in the wooden table.

“I told him I would go,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His father never failed to turn him into a scared little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh, sweetheart, do you really think that’s wise, what with everything?” his mother said, placing her arm around the back of his chair.

Before he could respond; before he could explain that no, it wasn’t his first choice, but when Kurt had looked at him with _that_ look, the one that was impossible to say no to; before he even had a chance to defend himself, his father was talking again.

“If you wanted to go to prom, why didn’t you say so? Andrew said Lexi broke up with that boyfriend of hers a few weeks ago. I’m sure she would love it if you took her to—”

“I’m gay,” Blaine cut his dad off before he could continue. And really, how many times would he have to say it before his dad stopped trying to hook him up with Lexi Baker? Or Tanya Cooper? Or that hostess at Morton’s? Or any girl walking down the street, his dad wasn’t biased…

“We know that, sweetheart,” his mother said, carefully trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. Yet again, playing mediator between Blaine and his father.

“I’m going to prom with Kurt,” he said, willing his voice to sound determined and strong and not at all questioning and scared.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t just ask Lexi. She’s one of your best friends…”

“Because, _Dad_ , Lexi isn’t my boyfriend.”

“William, please,” his mom said.

This was why Blaine hated coming home for dinner every Wednesday night. Inevitably, he would end up in a fight with his dad and his mother would be stuck trying to referee. It was the reason why he had yet to bring Kurt with him, even though Blaine had spent the last four Friday nights at the Hummel-Hudson’s for their family dinners.

“I was merely suggesting. A girl’s prom is special, she deserves to have a date…”

“Dad!” Blaine slammed his hand down on the table, causing their plates to rattle.

“What?” he held his hands up, as if he were completely innocent. As if he were merely suggesting he wear the red jacket with blue piping (although apparently that was _not_ a completely innocent comment either, if one suggested to do so in a Warblers meeting. No, that comment apparently was so scandalous that it made Trent claim they were in a Kangaroo Court—whatever that was).

“Lexi is going to prom with David. He asked her last week. And I know you knew this because I told you we were going to serenade her at Crawford. You two had dinner with the Baker’s last night, you can’t tell me it didn’t come up.”

They all sat in uncomfortable silence for the next few minutes, staring at each other. It was moments like these that made him insanely jealous of Kurt. Their dinner table was filled with laughter and love and the occasional good-natured teasing. And even when the conversation did make a turn for the more serious, you could always count on Finn to ask an inappropriate question that had them all rolling their eyes. Kurt’s dinner table was never uncomfortable. His family never tried to make him straight.

Blaine’s mom finally stood up and began clearing the dishes, clearly looking for a distraction. As she disappeared into the kitchen, his father cleared his throat loudly. Blaine braced himself for the worst.

“You’re not going to prom, Blaine.”

“Because I’m going with Kurt,” he said sarcastically.

And okay, it wasn’t like Blaine was ecstatic about prom in the first place, but to be told he couldn’t go?

“Yes, alright. If prom is really that important to you, I’m sure you can find a nice girl at Crawford to take instead.”

“I’m gay!”

“We’ll don’t be!”

An eerie silence followed his father’s words. Part of Blaine was relieved to finally have the truth out there. His father had never said he disapproved of him before. He covered up his homophobia with fishing trips, football games, and building that stupid car. But now, at least, Blaine finally knew the truth.

So why did it feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” his dad whispered. “I didn’t mean…” But he was at a loss for words.

Blaine’s eyes were swimming with tears, but he closed them tight, willing himself not to cry. He would not give his father the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. He would be a man about this. That’s what his dad had always wanted, wasn’t it? For Blaine to be a real man. For him to stop singing. For him to go to co-ed parties instead of community theatre productions. For him not to be gay.

“William.” Blaine could barely hear his mother speaking softly to his father over the pounding of his heart. “Didn’t you have that business call to Japan?”

He felt a heavy hand fall onto his shoulder, but when he brought himself to open his eyes, all he saw was his father’s back as he left the room. It wasn’t until the door to the dining room swung shut that Blaine allowed himself to let out his first sob.

He quickly found himself wrapped in his mother’s arms.

“Oh sweetheart, you know he didn’t mean it,” she said, rubbing comforting circles over his back.

“He’s never going to love me,” he cried. “I’m his son…”

“Hey,” his mom said, pulling back and placing her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Your father doesn’t give a damn that you are gay. Do you hear me? He only cares that the rest of the world cares.”

“God forbid I tarnish the Anderson name by being a fag,” he said bitterly.

“Blaine Anderson! Do not talk like that in my house!”

“Right, respect,” he mumbled. It’s funny; he’s been forced to show it his entire life. You’d think he would get it in return. He did everything his family asked of him. He was involved in school, got good grades…

“Do you remember when you first came out to us?” his mom asked.

“I—of course?” Where was she going with this?

“You sat us down, right here, and told us you were gay.”

“Okay?”

“Your father and I never questioned you. We never asked you if you were sure. We never judged you.”

“Dad took me fishing that weekend,” Blaine said giving her a pointed look.

He hated fishing; his dad _hated_ fishing. Yet the second he comes out to his parents, his dad takes him for a weekend of sleeping outside and “living off the land.” And really, that whole trip had been a disaster. Neither of them had caught a single fish. And they hadn’t brought any food because “real men eat what they catch.” So they had to hike ten miles just to have overcooked chicken at a disgustingly dirty biker bar that gave them food poisoning.

“Your father thought it was important that you still felt like one of the guys.”

“Don’t sit here and try to convince me that this is all one big misunderstanding. Don’t act like he hasn’t been trying to turn me straight since he found out. He tried to tell me I couldn’t audition for the Warblers and I needed to try out for soccer instead. He made me build a car with him from scratch and he didn’t even let me pick the paint color.”

“Your father doesn’t have a problem with you being gay. He just doesn’t want you to be so…”

“Gay?” Blaine finished with a self-deprecating smirk.

“Obvious,” his mother said, shooting him a warning glance.

“Out of fifteen Warblers do you want to know how many of us are gay?” he asked.

“Sweetheart…”

“Just me. But somehow show choir makes me _obvious_.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. If all his mother was going to do was take his side, he didn’t need this.

“The week after you came out to us, you came home in tears. You told us that the kids were harassing you at school.”

And again he really didn’t know why she was bringing this up. It wasn’t going to do anything but make him more upset.

“Dad never said a word to me about it.”

“Not to you,” she said with a soft smile. “But he spent the entire next day on the phone with anyone that would listen to him. He called every member of the school board.”

“You never told me that,” he said, trying not to let it get to him. So his father had called the school? He had most likely only done it at his mother’s insistence.

“What were we supposed to say? That not a single one of those incompetent ignorant assholes gave a damn? That the best advice we got was that you try to ‘tone it down’ like you were walking around school flaunting your sexuality and asking to be harassed. As if it was your fault.”

She was getting choked up now. He could hear the hitch in her voice and it was only making him cry harder. There was nothing worse than seeing one of your parents fall apart. They were supposed to be the strong ones. How was he supposed to pull himself together if she couldn’t?

“It’s okay, mom,” he said, hoping it would soothe her. He was never good at this part. He could pretend all he wanted with the rest of the world. He could get somebody a cup of coffee and hold their hand and dish out advice he only half-heartedly agreed with. But he couldn’t take away the pain in his mother’s eyes every time she had to hear he was being bullied.

“You came home crying every day for the next month and there wasn’t a thing your father or I could do to fix it. But your dad bought you new books when yours were defaced. He got you a new iPod when yours was broken. I took you shopping for new clothes when yours got cut up every time you had gym. Never once did we ask you to change.”

And she was right. They had never questioned him. They had just accepted it and carried on, never asking too many questions. Knowing that for him, it was worse to have to explain what had been happening. So they just went about life, spending obscene amounts of money replacing things that never should have been damaged in the first place. Things that would never have needed replacing had he been straight. And at the time, nobody had ever asked him to change. So why now? Why was it not okay for him to be gay now?

“But then why does he—”

“Two months after you came out, you came home with this big smile on your face. Aaron Baker had agreed to go to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with you. Your father and I, we thought that would be it. You would have somebody to confide it and things would start to get better for you. But then…”

“But then we ended up in the hospital,” he said, trying hard not to remember that night. Trying hard not to remember how broken Aaron had looked afterwards. Trying hard to forget the intense pain that had shot through his chest as a broken rib punctured his lung. But most of all, he tried not to remember the look of joy those guys had after beating them. Tried to forget the pure hatred of the act… as if he was less than human. A freak. All because he had the nerve to go to a dance with another boy.

“But then you ended up in the hospital. And then a few months later, Aaron…” she trailed off. Nobody talked about what had happened to Aaron much. It was far too painful to admit out loud. Not when there was so much guilt involved with the truth…

“I’m not going to pretend your father is perfect,” she said.

Blaine snorted. Well, at least they were in agreement there.

“But he’s trying. Those guys could have killed you that day. You could… I can’t even imagine what the Baker’s went through with Aaron, and to think that you might…”

“I’m not! Mom, look at me. I won’t, okay? I’m at Dalton now, it’s better. You don’t have to worry.”

Because honestly, that had never been an option for him. At least not seriously. And certainly never since transferring to Dalton.

“But we do,” his dad said, standing in the doorway. And Blaine realized he had no idea how long he had been standing there, listening in. “We know that you’re happy now. We’re so proud of how well you’re doing in school. You’ve got the Warblers and great friends who support you… you’ve got Kurt.”

Hearing Kurt’s name surprised him more than anything else his dad had said. Because it was the first time that he had said it without the hint of dislike in his voice. The first time he had spoken of Kurt as Blaine’s boyfriend. Almost… accepting? But that couldn’t have been right.

“But?” Blaine asked skeptically. With his father, he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But we’re scared,” his mom said. “You’re away at school and we don’t see you all the time. We have no way of knowing what’s really going on. And we never know if you’re fine or if you are just saying that to make us happy. We worry.”

“I am fine, really,” he said.

“That doesn’t change the fact that there are people out there who are going to hate you because of who you love,” his dad said. “Who aren’t going to look at you and see the compassionate, smart, talented young man you are, they will only see that you’re gay.”

Holy shit, had his father just openly admitted that Blaine was gay? Because… wow.

“I’m not going to tell you that you can’t go to prom with your boyfriend,” his dad said.

“You’re not?” Blaine asked, in disbelief. He had clearly stepped into some sort of Twilight Zone. This was not his family. They did not have heart to hearts like this. They didn’t talk about anything serious, ever. And his father certainly did not opening discuss subjects like boyfriends.

“If it’s not prom, it’ll be something else. As much as I would like to, I can’t force you to never leave the house. And you’ll have to learn to be in the real world at some point,” he said.

“I’m scared,” Blaine admitted, for the first time. Because it was true, he was terrified. He just had been too proud to admit it before. Too stubborn to show that his parents might be right about prom.

“I know, but you’ll be alright.” He placed his hand on Blaine’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“What if something happens again?” he said, barely above a whisper. And it wasn’t his manly voice that he used around his father. It wasn’t even his dapper well-mannered voice he used around Dalton. But somehow, that was alright; honesty wasn’t going to get him judged. Wow, you go to one family dinner and suddenly the entire world has turned on its axis.

“You’re going to text us the whole way to prom. Then you’re going to dance with your boyfriend surrounded by a hundred other teenagers, comforted with the knowledge that in a crowd of people the worst anyone can throw at you is words. Then you will leave the dance with everyone else, careful to not be left alone. And you will text us the entire drive home.”

“Right,” he nodded. He could do this. And he wouldn’t be alone. Kurt would be there the entire time to help him through this.

Blaine gave his dad a horribly awkward hug, but it was progress. One night didn’t fix a broken relationship, but it was a step in the right direction. He didn’t know if they would ever have the kind of relationship that Kurt had with his father. But at least this was honesty.

“I should probably get back to school. I’ve got an English Lit paper due tomorrow.”

“Of course,” his mother said, standing up and pulling him into another hug. “I’ll just wrap up some leftovers for you.”

“Your mother doesn’t think they feed you at Dalton,” he joked.

“His mother has seen the credit card bill and knows that her son considers coffee and pizza to be main food groups.”

And that was that. They were back to surface level conversation and it was like nothing had changed. But that wasn’t true. Everything had changed. And maybe that was a little over dramatic, but it felt true, at least.  



End file.
